CHAPTER 8

"BE GOOD TO Grandma, alright?" I said to Jake as I bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.

"He is always good, aren't you?" Mother came out to let Jake in, she hugged him close. I have always believed that she spoilt him. Then she looked at me with concerned eyes and said, "You look troubled…"

"I'm worried about how much inconvenience I am to you," I said.

"Nonsense," She snapped. "And that is not what I am talking about. You have eye bags underneath your eyes. Is everything alright?"

I nodded and pecked my mother's cheeks before hurrying away. "Bye, mum. I'll be here at 5." Then I hurried into my old sedan and drove away.

I knew if I spent any more time there, my mother would know just what was on my mind.

The truth was, I had lain awake for almost throughout the night, Marcus's words resounded in my head and even though I refused to admit it to myself, he was right that I would want more than a kiss. I hated the hold that Marcus still had over me.

I sped back to the house where my colleague, Laura, was waiting. We had the job of taking care of the reception of the wedding of a big family downtown. It was our biggest contract for the past 6 months and we were determined to make the best out of it.

Laura was also my best friend so the business went along smoothly between the both of us.

"Does she know?" Laura threw the question at me as soon as I entered the kitchen and started packing my hair into a cap.

"Know what?" I asked, feigning innocence. I tucked every strand of my hair into the cap and reached for the apron.

"That your ex-husband and baby daddy gave you butterflies in your belly and made you lie awake for most of the night," Laura said, leaning her ample hips against a counter.

I threw my best friend a glance but did not reply. Laura got the drift and also did not push the subject any further. We went about cooking and baking the meals for the wedding.

A few hours later, we were done with all. I looked at the creations and felt my heart swell with pride. "We have to be there at the service," I muttered. "We need to blow flames over those ones at the last minute."

Laura sighed. "I figured as much, that's why I brought a dress."

I chuckled. "You wanted to go to the wedding anyway."

Laura gave a mischievous grin and winked. "Well, now. We have a perfect reason to be there."

With the help of some employed hands, we loaded the different meals carefully into the back of Laura's van before we went to dress up for the big event.

~ ~ ~

MARCUS SAT AT his table, gently sipping on a glass of scotch and waiting for his wife Melissa to be done with her preparation.

He had finished dressing up over an hour ago but was still waiting for his wife.

"Another glass," He muttered to a servant standing near the door. The servant hurried to refill his cup.

Finally, he heard her steps as she came down the steps. He looked as she approached. She was very beautiful, he admitted it to himself, so what was it that made him unattractive to her? He often asked himself.

He took her hand and kissed it. "The waiting was worth it," He said.

She smiled genuinely and allowed herself to be led out to their luxury car where the driver was waiting.

"The whole family is at the party already," He muttered to his wife. Melissa chuckled and said, "Well, we are also headed there now, are we not?"

"We are," Marcus agreed. "When it is almost over. I might not even get to pay tribute to the groom."

"I'm sure your cousin has done all that for you," Mellisa waved it off. "All you have to do is get there, nod your head to a few people, pretend like you enjoy the meal, and leave."

Marcus snorted. "I'm sure you have been to tons of this."

Melissa chucked.

This was the longest lighthearted conversation they have had in a long while. Over the years they've been married, one would have expected that they would grow to love each other, but they had not.

"We are here, sir," the driver said through the intercom. The car cruised to a stop and a server opened the door.

Marcus buttoned his jacket and stepped out into the flashing arrays of cameras. He reached in to take his wife's hand and help her out.

They both posed for the camera and media before walking into the reception hall.

The hall was filled with different billionaires. Marcus glanced around and noted the gathering of his family. He and Melissa walked over.

"I see you finally made it," Julian said, laughing. He handed Marcus a glass of champagne.

"How late are we?" Marcus asked.

"I doubt your absence was noticed," Julian said. "Hello dear Mellissa," He greeted, pecking her cheek.

Waiters flitted amongst the distinguished guests holding trays containing flutes of champagnes. Marcus looked around the room and noted different families, they were rival families but this was a peaceful affair, as long as no one tried to be a hero, they were going to be fine.

It was the wedding of the first son of the Martell family, and they were a very respected family in New York.

Marcus could remember his wedding to Mellisa like it was just yesterday even though it had been 5 years ago. His heart was still wrenched for Olivia, but his sense of duty overpowered his love.

"Did you hear that, Marcus?" Vittorio's voice brought Marcus back to the present.

He shook his head and turned to see that the whole table was staring at him. "Sorry," He shook his head. "I was thinking about, uh, my mind was distracted." He sipped his glass of champagne.

Vittorio leaned over and whispered, "You can't let your guard down in a place like this."

Marcus nodded. "It won't happen again."

"Your father was saying that a lieutenant told him about the arrival of some Italian mob," Julian said.

Marcus shrugged. "So? The Martells are also deeply rooted in Italy."

The men at the table raised an eyebrow and looked at Marcus like they could not believe what their boss was saying. Marcus sighed and stood up, "I need to use the bathroom."

They all watched him walk away unsteadily.

The truth was that Marcus's mind was wandering to Olivia. This wedding was as arranged as his was, and it only made him nostalgic for what he missed in his life, like Olivia.

He walked to the jack of the hall and pushed through a small door. He bumped through some short men in suits.

"Watch it, pandejo," One of the men snarled in a thick French accent.

Marcus ignored and went to the basin to sprinkle some water on his face. After taking in deep breaths to regulate his breathing, he walked out through the back door, ignoring the party in the hall.

He sat on a chair and brought out his cigar from his pocket.

He spent some minutes smoking and reminiscing deeply about his present life and what to do about the growing ache that seeing Olivia yesterday gave him.

At the same moment that his brain registered the fact that he was sitting in a secluded area outside a hall filled with rival families, he heard the door open and light footsteps approaching.

His mind immediately went into alert mode and he dipped his hand into his inner pocket to bring out his ever-present brass knuckles. He fixed his fingers on the brass weapon and stood up quietly, whoever it was that wanted to take him by surprise, would be taken by surprise.

He calculated his moves in his head, if there were more than one assailant, he would try and get one as a hostage and leverage to get himself out, he walked as quietly as a cat to the corner and whipped around, grabbing the person by the hand and pinning it to the wall.

"M-marcus?"

His eyes were blinded with adrenaline that he had not noticed that it was a woman he was pinning against the wall. His eyes cleared and he stared into the soft brown eyes of... Olivia.

"Is this real?" He whispered, thinking that it was a figment of his imagination.

"You're hurting me," she said squirming slightly.

He softened his hold but did not release her hand. "What are you doing here?" He asked. His eyes ran down her body, noting her dress. "Are you the date of one of the scums in the party?" His eyes darkened and his voice deepened.

"What?" Olivia asked. "No, and what I am doing here is none of your business. Will you let me go now?" She tried to free herself from his iron grip.

Marcus pinned both her hands with one of his and let his other hand run over her side. He took a deep breath and lowered his head, he still could not believe that the subject of his imagination was here in his grip, and she had stopped squirming too.

His free hand went around her waist and pulled her closer, he looked into her eyes and felt himself get lost in the deep brown pools.

"Fucking hell," He muttered and lowered his lips to meet hers. His lips were less than an inch from hers when a clearing of the made him pause. He turned to see Melissa standing a few yards behind him.

"Fucking hell," He cursed again under his breath.